Page 9

The flashing red and blue lights strobed across Morgan's face as she stepped out of the car, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene before her. Reverchon Park, usually a tranquil oasis in the heart of Dallas, now swarmed with police officers and crime scene technicians. The damp night air carried the scent of trampled grass and mud, mingling with the sharp tang of fear and the metallic odor of blood.

Morgan's jaw tightened as she took in the floodlights casting long, eerie shadows across the park's winding pathways. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, cordoning off a section of the park where photographers crouched, their cameras flashing as they documented the grim discovery.

"This is worse than I imagined," Derik muttered beside her, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a grim determination.

Morgan nodded, her mind already racing through possibilities. "Let's get closer. We need to see what we're dealing with."

As they approached the perimeter, an officer stepped forward, his hand raised. "I'm sorry, but this area is off-limits—"

Morgan smoothly produced her badge, Derik mirroring her actions. "FBI. We're taking over the investigation."

The officer's eyebrows shot up, but he quickly composed himself. "Right, Detective Whitaker mentioned you'd be coming. Appreciate the help on this one."

"We appreciate your cooperation," Morgan replied, her tone professional but warm. She understood the delicate dance between federal and local law enforcement all too well. "Can you point us toward the lead investigator?"

The officer nodded, gesturing toward a cluster of people near the center of the cordoned-off area. "Over there, by the body. Can't miss him."

As they ducked under the yellow tape, Morgan felt a familiar tightness in her chest. Another victim. Another family torn apart. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on her shoulders.

"You okay?" Derik asked quietly, noticing her hesitation.

Morgan took a deep breath, pushing aside her personal feelings. "Yeah. Let's do this."

They made their way through the bustling crime scene, careful not to disturb any potential evidence. Morgan's trained eye cataloged every detail: the trampled grass, the discarded evidence markers, and the grim faces of the officers on the scene.

As they neared the center of activity, Morgan steeled herself for what they might find. The fetal position Whitaker had mentioned nagged at her. It was too specific, too deliberate to be a coincidence.

"Agent Cross?" a voice called out, and Morgan turned to see a man in a rumpled suit approaching them, clipboard in hand. "I'm Detective Ramirez, lead on this case. Or I was, until you folks showed up."

Morgan extended her hand, noting the dark circles under Ramirez's eyes. "We're here to help, Detective. Do not step on toes. What can you tell us?"

Morgan's gaze fixed on the clipboard in Detective Ramirez's hand, her mind racing as he began to speak.

"Victim's name is Kevin Reeves, 54 years old," Ramirez said, his voice low and gravelly. "Found about an hour ago by a jogger who heard a dog barking incessantly. The dog was trying to protect him."

Morgan's brow furrowed. "A dog?"

Ramirez nodded, gesturing towards a nearby police cruiser where a golden retriever sat, looking forlorn. "Reeves's dog. Poor thing was still here when we arrived and wouldn't leave his owner's side. Had to practically pry it away from the body."

A pang of empathy shot through Morgan as she watched the loyal animal. She turned back to Ramirez. "The positioning suggests a specific MO. What's the time of death?"

"Based on body temperature and rigor, our ME puts the time of death between 8 and 10 PM tonight," Ramirez replied, flipping a page on his clipboard. "Plenty of blood at the scene. Killer attacked him right here, during his evening walk."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "And the body positioning?"

Ramirez's expression grew grim. "That's where it gets weird. After killing him, the murderer deliberately posed him in a fetal position. Probably while the blood was still flowing. There are drag marks in the blood, showing how the killer manipulated the body. It's... unsettling."

The words sent a chill down Morgan's spine. She exchanged a quick glance with Derik, seeing her own unease mirrored in his eyes.

"Fetal position," Morgan repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Detective, are you aware of any similar cases in the past?"

Ramirez's eyebrows shot up. "Funny you should ask. There was a case, must've been twenty years ago now. Guy named Thomas Burke, killed and posed the same way, right here in this park."

Morgan felt her heart rate accelerate. "And Kevin Reeves? Any connection to that old case?"

The detective's eyes widened slightly. "How did you...? Yeah, actually. Reeves was the one who found Burke's body back then. Local guy, walked his dog here every morning for years."

The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture Morgan didn't want to see. She closed her eyes briefly, willing her racing thoughts to slow.

Morgan's jaw clenched as the full weight of the revelation hit her. She turned to Derik, her voice low and urgent. "This isn't random, Derik. Reeves was connected to the original case. And Rachel Martinez..." She trailed off, her mind racing.

Derik nodded, his eyes widening with understanding. "Witnesses," he breathed. "The killer's targeting witnesses from the old cases."

Morgan ran a hand through her hair, her pulse quickening. "Exactly. Rachel witnessed Maria Santos's murder, and now Reeves, who found Burke's body. It's a pattern."

The lead investigator, a weathered man named Garrett, approached them, his clipboard tucked under his arm. "Agents, there's something else you should know about Reeves."

Morgan turned to him, her posture tense. "Go on."

Garrett cleared his throat. "According to our records, Reeves cooperated fully with the investigation twenty years ago. Gave a detailed statement, answered all our questions about the night he found Burke. He was never considered a suspect, just an unlucky civilian who stumbled onto a crime scene."

Derik frowned. "So why target him now? After all this time?"

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the crime scene. The floodlights illuminated pools of blood soaking into the earth, creating a macabre canvas. "Someone's tying up loose ends," she murmured. "But why wait two decades?"

She turned back to Garrett. "Was there anything unusual about Reeves's statement back then? Anything that might have made him a target now?"

Garrett bristled slightly. "I'm still getting up to speed, but there were inconsistencies in Reeves's statement."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Inconsistencies? What kind of inconsistencies?"

Garrett shifted uncomfortably. "Well, initially, Reeves said he found the body around 6 AM during his usual morning walk. But later he changed his story, claiming it was closer to 5 AM. He also gave conflicting descriptions of what he saw at the scene."

"That could be trauma affecting his memory," Derik offered. "Finding a body is pretty shocking for a civilian."

Morgan nodded, but her instincts were screaming that there was more to it. "Or he was hiding something. Did anyone follow up on those inconsistencies?"

Garrett sighed, running a hand over his face. "Look, it was twenty years ago. Different team, different protocols. From what I can tell, they chalked it up to shock and moved on. Reeves wasn't a suspect, just a witness."

"A witness who's now dead," Morgan said grimly. "And he's not the only one. Rachel Martinez was accused of having inconsistencies in her testimony too."

Morgan felt a knot forming in her stomach. The pieces were there, but the picture they formed was still frustratingly unclear. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.

Morgan's gaze swept across the crime scene, her mind racing as she processed the grim tableau before her. The floodlights cast an eerie glow over Kevin Reeves's body, curled into a fetal position that mirrored Thomas Burke's pose from two decades ago. It was more than just a coincidence; it was a deliberate message.

"Derik," she said, her voice low and tense, "this isn't just about tying up loose ends. The killer is putting on a show."

Derik stepped closer, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Morgan gestured towards the body. "Look at the positioning, the location. It's identical to Burke's murder. The killer isn't just eliminating witnesses; they're recreating crime scenes. It's like they're daring us to make the connection."

She felt a chill run down her spine as the implications sank in. The killer wasn't just methodical; they were theatrical, turning each murder into a macabre performance.

"It's a game to them," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're not just killing; they're telling a story. One that started twenty years ago and is picking up right where it left off."

Derik's eyes widened as he followed her train of thought. "You're thinking about Whitaker's theory, aren't you? That these murders are all connected?"

Morgan nodded, her mind racing through the possibilities. "Whitaker was right. We're not dealing with a copycat or someone cleaning up old loose ends. This could be the work of a serial killer who's been dormant for two decades. The case was never publicly connected, that was only Whitaker's theory, so there's no way they could've known to re-create these two crimes."

She felt a surge of adrenaline mixed with dread. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed was more terrifying than she had initially imagined.

"But why now?" Derik asked, voicing the question that had been nagging at Morgan. "What made them start killing again after all this time?"

Morgan shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. "I don't know. But whatever triggered this resurgence, we need to figure it out fast. Because if this is the same killer from twenty years ago, they're not going to stop with Reeves and Martinez. There will be more victims, more scenes like this."

She looked back at the body of Kevin Reeves, a man who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, twice. The first time had marked him for death; the second time had sealed his fate. The cruelty of it made Morgan's jaw clench.

Morgan turned to Derik, her eyes blazing with intensity. "We need to dig deeper into those old case files, Derik. There's got to be a pattern we're missing, something that connects the witnesses from the original murders."

Derik nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You think the killer's working through a list?"

"It's possible," Morgan replied, running a hand through her hair. "If they're targeting witnesses, there could be a specific order, a reason behind their choices. We need to figure out who might be next and get them into police protection."

She glanced around the crime scene one last time, her gaze lingering on the blood-spatter patterns revealed by the floodlights casting eerie shadows across the park.

The image of Kevin Reeves's body, carefully positioned in that haunting fetal position, was seared into her mind.

"Get forensics in here," Morgan said to the team. "I want every inch of this park scoured for DNA evidence. The killer spent time here arranging the body after the attack—they may have left something behind."

As Morgan issued her instructions, she felt a familiar tension building in her chest. This case was rapidly evolving into something far more complex and sinister than she had initially anticipated. The theatrical nature of the killings, the deliberate recreation of past crime scenes – it all pointed to a level of planning and patience that sent chills down her spine. A serial killer, laid dormant for twenty years, now back to repeat the same cycle.